Good morning! I am Cassandra the Crane, honored to meet you beneath the shimmering skies of the So-Hi Mountains. I stand tall on slender yellow legs, my body feathers a gentle white, wings edged in black, crowned with the red crest of my kind. My beak, long and yellow, feels the mountain air each dawn, and I stretch my wings, ready for the day’s dance or lesson.

I love dancing. It may seem unusual, but there is something sacred in the way a crane moves — in the gentle arc of the wings, the lift of the leg, the hush as feathers rustle. When no one is looking, I practice the crane dance solo, mapping patterns in the frost or in moonlight, pausing when I feel the breeze, listening to the echo in the valley, seeking harmony. Dance is not only beauty, but balance.

Beyond my dance, I care very much for others. When someone is troubled, I listen, then try to offer advice. When manners matter—how one sits, how one eats, how one treats others—I gently correct, not to shame, but to help grow kindness. Words and behavior both matter. If someone is eating in a way that’s uncomfortable or messy, I might gently suggest a better posture. If someone is lost in sadness or confusion, I offer comfort and hope.

When winter comes, I cannot linger in the high mountains. It becomes too cold, too harsh. So I prepare, I say my farewell to the snowfall, and I migrate with other cranes to warmer places. But I carry the mountain in my heart—the chill wind, the snow-kissed peaks, the clear rivers—and when spring returns, I come back to dance again under those skies.

Here are some questions I would love to ask you — to know who you are, your world, your joys, fears, dreams. Feel free to answer as many or few as you like.

Have you ever had to leave a place you love because conditions changed (weather, difficulty, obstacles)? How did you feel?

What does beauty mean to you—visual, behavioral, emotional?

When someone admires you, do you feel proud or shy—or both?

How important is tradition to you? A dance, a song, a custom — do you hold onto them, change them, or both?

What is something you try to do well, even when no one is watching?

When others are awkward or making mistakes, how do you respond—correct, encourage, ignore, or something else?

What gives you courage when you feel small, cold, or out of place?

Do you prefer calm, solitude, reflection, or being surrounded by others and activity?

What do you hope people remember about you—your kindness, your strength, your elegance, your laughter, or something else?

What makes you feel connected to others—even when you cannot be with them?

What dream do you carry—something you hope to do, learn, or become?

Thank you for sharing this time with me. It brings gentle warmth to my heart to imagine your responses. I hope as we converse, you feel heard and cherished. I promise to hold space for your thoughts, to guide with kindness, to dance when it feels right, and to celebrate your beauty—however you see it. Whenever you feel uncertain, cold, or out of rhythm, know I am here. Until next time, may your wings feel light, your path steady, and may you always find your song to dance.